As Always
by Kwinks
Summary: One-shot. "While Tamaki knew better than anyone what could not make Kyoya cry, he also knew what did. He even had the power to make it happen himself."


**A/N:**So yeah, I wrote this because it's been in my head for a while and I couldn't get it out. I figured the best remedy for that was to write it down and post it on :). So if I could get some reviews with some helpful feedback that'd be nice, or ya know, don't. That's fine too.

I'll do this because everyone else does: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.

Yes, I know it's a lame title. I suck at coming up with names for my fics.

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_**As Always**_

Most people who came into contact with him would agree that Kyouya-senpai was not the tearful type. As a matter of fact, Tamaki knew from personal experience that you could sit him in front of the most depressing, woefully tear-jerking movie in the world, a film which has been known to make grown men bawl their eyes out, and not a solitary drop would come from those stone-gray eyes. For instance, at the scene where the man confesses his love to the dying cancer patient, while Tamaki would sit on the couch next to him, bursting into over-dramatic tears and lamenting the melancholy tone of the movie, Kyouya would coldly and dismissively comment on the corniness of the romantic speech the main character was giving, or on the clichéd overuse of common diseases to exaggerate the drama in the death-scene climax of the film.

Or perhaps you might attempt to dampen his eyes with a more direct approach, by trying to touch the black hole where his heart should be by murdering his mother, or killing his dog (if he had one), and then even that probably wouldn't stir enough emotion within him to cause a single tear.

And yet, while Tamaki knew better than anyone what could not make Kyouya cry, he also knew what did. He even had the power to make it happen himself.

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Club duties were over for today, and so one after another the hosts exited the clubroom, parting with farewells and last-minute checks to see if they had forgotten any of their belongings. Mori-senpai and Hani-senpai were the first ones to leave. Hani was riding on his cousin's shoulders and giving a wave so enthusiastic, for one insane moment Kyouya was actually convinced his hand would fly off. His energetic hand motions came complete with an excited goodbye and an "Ah" from Mori-senpai in a rather comically opposite fashion.

The twins had departed about five minutes after them, giving a "Bye!" in unison. And Haruhi had followed shortly after, sparing them a small, apathetic flick of her hand. "Bye Tamaki-senpai. Kyouya-senpai."

Once again, like everyday after hosting duties, they were the only two left.

As always, as soon as Haruhi's footsteps could no longer be heard, Tamaki sat himself automatically at the piano.

As always, Kyoya made an appearance at his side.

"So, does my audience have any requests?" Always the same question.

"No. You know the ones I like." Always an answer to that same effect.

Tamaki waited, like he always did, for Kyoya's footsteps to stop beside the chair in the middle of the room, waited to hear the scratching of the chair legs against the floor as he turned it so it wasn't facing the piano, nor it's skilled player.

As soon as he heard the soft "plomp" of the cushions, signaling that Kyoya had also sat down, Tamaki's long, thin fingers began to dance gracefully along the keys.

Kyouya honestly didn't know why he even bothered to turn the chair around anymore. Both he and Tamaki knew very well what happened once the blond boy wielded his power over the one sitting in the chair, once he used that magic spell, those beautiful, musical notes wrapping themselves around the room and both it's occupants. The only conclusion Kyouya came to, was that he simply did not have the courage to face even Tamaki, the one he knew he could trust, when his walls were completely torn down, when he was vulnerable and the Shadow King was faced with his one weakness: his addiction to that glorious music.

And so, as always, Kyouya stared at the walls, his back erect against the chair. As always, from behind his glasses, no demonic glint in them to hide his eyes now, two tears welled up and spilled over, blazing a trail down each cheek, meeting at his chin, and dropping into his lap.

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**A/N: **I just really liked the idea of Tamaki playing the piano for Kyouya after the club everyday. I could just picture them really doing this for some reason. If you liked it, please click the review button.


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